Deadly
by HI MY NAME IS uncool
Summary: Normal : noun : Not my life. Tragedy forced her out of her circle of friends. Now, Taxic can only hope that someone, anyone, can help her rebuild it all.
1. Gone

_ I'm drowning..._  
  
Flashing lights.  
  
Red.  
  
Blue.  
  
High-pitched sirens.  
  
Grating.  
  
Accusing.  
  
Faceless People.  
  
Pointing.  
  
Staring.  
  
Confusion.  
  
Voices.  
  
Hands.  
  
Shaking.  
  
"What happened?"  
**  
Go away.**  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
**Stop it.**  
  
"Can you hear me?"  
**  
Leave me alone.**  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
**I hate you.**  
  
"Were you her daughter?"  
**  
You don't know me.**  
  
"Were you involved in anyway?"  
  
**Shut up.**  
  
"Can you tell me what happened?"  
  
Cold.  
  
Wet.  
  
Rain.  
  
Ice.  
  
Blank.  
  
Dead.  
  
My fault.  
  
Dead.  
  
My fault.  
  
Dead.  
  
My fault.  
  
Gone.  
  
Never coming back.  
  
Gone...  
  
Gonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegone.  
  
She's dead.  
  
Frozen.  
  
**Good bye.**  
  
= =   
  
There's the start of it... all will be explained in the next chapter (I hope.) Please, review, tell me how confusing/non-confusing it was. I need the feed back! 


	2. Empty

"...Something has left my life,   
And I don't know where it went to.   
Somebody caused me strife,   
And it's not what I was seeking..."  
  
[ Empty, The Cranberries]  
  
Silence pounded in my ears. I was tired, oh so tired. I wanted so badly to sleep again. Simon Devine intertwined our fingers, squeezing my hand. Our black nail polish matched. "You gonna be okay, Taxic?" I shook my head, stringy hair falling into my eyes. My boyfriend of two years rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. The normally endearing motion was lost on me.  
  
Sitting amongst relatives, at my mother's funeral, I felt alone. I bowed my head, staring at my lap. Relatives watched me, begging me to cry, make a scene, or do something. They wanted me to give them something to talk about afterwards.   
  
My throat burned and my head pounded with a bass line that only I could hear. The make-up around my eyes was smudged, my black skirts were rumbled and old; I didn't fit in. Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I rested my head on Simon's shoulder.  
  
On my other side, my best friend took a deep breath. Myca Thompson fiddled slightly with her fingers, nervous. Simon's younger brother, Tobias, had his eyes clenched shut. I wanted desperately to run screaming out of the cemetery. Speaker after speaker dissolved into tears as they talked about Mother.  
  
Simon broke the link of our hands, and stood up, brushing his slacks off nervously. He bent down, brushing my lips with his, then walked up to the podium in front of what would become Mother's grave. My boyfriend, ever the calm one, reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out a worn piece of paper.  
  
"Um, I'm Simon Devine..." A ripple of uncertainty flowed through my relatives. Who could this mysterious boy be? "I'm Taxic's boyfriend... I just wanted to say some stuff, I'll keep it short." I bit my lip, keeping the excited squeak inside.   
  
"Taxic's mum was real cool, you know? She let me and my brother stay at their place when our folks were fighting, and she didn't ask us any questions. So, um, Tobias and I wanted to sing something... if you don't mind... Toby?" The younger Devine stood up as well, brushing off his slacks like his brother had.  
  
The two began singing, and as the song progressed, I could see tears forming in Tobias's eyes. An old lady behind me started sobbing, and Myca had to cover her mouth.  
  
"...And it feels   
And it feels like   
Heaven's so far away   
And it feels   
Yeah it feels like   
The world has grown cold   
Now that you've gone away..."  
  
When the brothers returned to their seats, I kissed Tobias on the cheek, and latched onto Simon's arm, kissing him as well.. "You okay, sweetie?" I shook my head, unable to speak, words not forming in my head. He rubbed his nose against mine, murmuring, "it'll get better."  
  
I couldn't cry. Tears refused to come to me as they lowered Mother into the ground. I had to look away, burying my face into Simon's shoulder, when they began to throw dirt on the casket. He rubbed my back, telling me that it was okay to cry. I locked my arms around his neck, trying to erase the images of my deceased mother from my head.  
  
"Come on," Simon's arm slid to rest around my waist and he pressed his lips to my cheek. The others followed as we left the grave yard. "Let's go to my place." I didn't have the energy to argue. Myca came up beside me, taking my other hand. Tobias stuffed his hands in his pockets, dragging his feet a little.  
  
No one talked as the November wind blew around us. Trees mirrored my feelings, as dead branches scratched at the sky. I stared up at the clouds, trusting my friends to lead me, and prayed for the sky to crash down on us. Birds fell silent as we passed, and I sent a silent thanks their way. It must've missed them, as they started screeching in the dying sunlight.  
  
Tobias pushed open the screen door, letting us file by him before slamming it shut. It left an undying echo in the deserted street. My boyfriend told us to go on down to the basement, and he headed to his room to change. We all made a silent pact not to talk about what had occurred earlier that day.  
  
For their elder son's 13 birthday, the Devines turned the basement into a party room of sorts. A guitar and amp rested in one corner. Next to that was a mini fridge, which Myca eagerly stole a soda from. A big screen TV took up most of one wall, complete with surround sound and an ever-growing collection of DVDs.  
  
Tobias stretched out on the floor, but not before discarding his suit jacket. Myca took over a good deal of the couch, and I curled into myself on a bean bag chair. The need to sleep over came me, but I resisted.  
  
"What do you guys wanna watch?" Myca shrugged, opening her pop with a fizz. "Taxic?" I remained silent, staring blankly at the plush carpet. "Um, is this okay for you two?" He held up a random DVD, and without waiting for an answer, loaded it into the machine.  
  
Simon waltzed down the stairs, in his full baggy jeaned glory. The stud in his ear (which had been removed for the funeral) was a mini skull and matched the chain around his neck. He sat down on the floor, next to me, with his back against the couch. "What're we watching?"  
  
"Aqua Teen Hunger Force, first season." Simon grinned at his brother's answer. Who really knew if his excitement was genuine? Again, his hand sought out my own.  
  
"All right!" He pulled me into his lap, resting his chin on the top of my head. "You comfortable Princess?" I shrugged. "Good." His stubble scratched my neck as he tried to kiss me. My unresponsiveness disturbed him. "Taxic, is something wrong?"  
  
I shook my head, watching the TV and not seeing what was on it. 'Can't you pretend to be normal?' A voice hissed inside of my head. 'You do remember normal, don't you?' I pushed away the notions that voice — my voice was suggesting. I took Simon's hand in my own, kissing the back of it softly. "I'm fine." Against my better judgment, I let him lead me up to his room.  
  
I had been in my boyfriend's room many times. It never went anywhere, as I was still young. I didn't buy into the "sex before it was legal" bit. Even though he was well aware of this, it never stopped Simon from asking. My eyelids slid shut as he closed the door.   
  
I could feel his gaze alternating between me and the bed. I didn't blame him for thinking that way. Every 18 year old boy had those ideas in their head. It wasn't entirely Simon's fault that his girlfriend was three years his junior.  
  
"Taxic...?" I felt his hands on my shoulders, and I shivered as they caressed my back. "Do you... y'know... do you wanna?" I opened my eyes, and caught sight of myself in the mirror hanging from his wall. Unwashed hair framed a pale face, eyes that were blank and the color of dead leaves dared me to say yes. Simon stole my gaze, his hazel stare captivating my own.  
  
"Simon," I turned away from him and away from his tempting reflection. "You know the answer to that already." I didn't want to remember the look on his face, as I denied him once again. We both knew it would be the last time he'd ask me, and it was the last time I would be forced to say no.   
  
As my father couldn't handle a child with his hectic work schedule, I was to be sent to live with my aunt (mother's sister) and uncle. I knew my father was spiteful to the fact I hadn't chosen to live with him after the divorce – that was the real reason he didn't take me.  
  
The whole family knew it too. He didn't even have to hide it.  
  
The street was lonely as I walked back. Tobias and Myca probably knew what had gone down. They weren't as stupid as Simon believed them to be. It felt like I should be crying, or having some kind of fit, but nothing. The wind played with my hair teasingly. Ignoring its seductive call, I pulled my trench coat closer to myself. 'Nothing can get in.'  
  
My aunt was waiting for me when I got home. She had a plate of cookies, and a cup of hot chocolate sitting on the table, begging to be relocated to my stomach. She motioned for me to sit down, and I wasn't in the mood to do otherwise.  
  
"Taxic, we need to talk." I looked at her, face blank. "As you probably know, your father is — well, he doesn't deserve to have such a sweet girl like you living with him." Her smile became strained when I didn't return it. "The family and I were discussing it, and we think it would be best if you came and lived with us in New York." I focused on the grain in the table, trying to memorize it. "We have the room, seeing as Jackie just left for college." I glanced up at the mention of my cousin. "I think we're going back to NYC in a few days. I hope that gives you enough time to get packed."  
  
"I guess."  
  
"Taxic, sweetie." She rested her hand over mine. I couldn't move, I just... couldn't. "I know you were close to my sister, I was too. Maybe... maybe, we can help each other heal."  
  
"Okay." Who really knew if I really meant it?  
  
"You look so much like her, you know..." The urge to flee hit me hard in the chest. I fisted my hands in my skirts. "Oh, sweetie," her eyes dripped pity, "I'm sorry." The chair flipped over hard as I ran to my room. Auntie didn't follow, for that I was glad.  
  
Midnight found me with an empty house and a dry mouth. My throat still burned from the funeral. The memories of the days leading up to the funeral twisted around me, vines covered with poison-dipped thorns. The thorns injected their acid into my heart, and I drew my knees to my chest, resting my cheek atop them.  
  
The glossy surface my posters reflected the moon. I screwed my eyes shut, making a desperate wish upon the sun's opposite. Simon once told me that wishes only come true when they're made on stars. Tobias contradicted him, saying that if the wish was important enough, the moon would listen. I trusted my boyfriend's little brother better than I trusted my boyfriend himself.  
  
'Please, make me strong. Make me strong...' Who really knew if the moon heard me? I fell asleep that night with my arms wound tight around one leg, pulling it close to my body. There might've been tear stains on my dress, but I couldn't tell. The tired feeling clung to my bones even after I slept.  
  
Auntie looked ready to burst into tears at the sight of my day-old outfit and rumbled appearance. "Taxic, why don't you take a shower?" She pleaded not unkindly, and I complied. "You'll feel better, and then I can help you pack." She guided me to the bathroom, where a fresh pair of towels sat conspiratorially on the counter.  
  
Before I continued in the ritual of cleansing my body, I shuffled to my room. I picked out clean underwear, a faded Alkaline Trio shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. All was black, even my under things. Auntie poked her head around the corner as I padded back to the bathroom, arms laden with replacement clothing. Her eyes narrowed at the choice of color, but said nothing. I should've known; my cousin was partial to green and yellow.  
  
The water was supposed to be warm, but it felt icy cold. Shivering slightly, I adjusted the temperature. The hope of my exhaustion washing down the drain with the soap suds was lost, as my eye lids dropped. The shampoo and body wash helped to rejuvenate me a little.  
  
Wiping at the mirror, I inspected myself in the steam-cleared streak. My hair – now clean – still hung around my face, limp and dead. My eyes held the ever-present haunting shadow and the skin surrounding them was deathly pale. Not all the make-up had been removed, but it didn't matter. I was just going to put more on.  
  
"I look like a freak." Deciding that mirrors were highly overrated, I went about redressing myself. The clean material felt refreshing against my skin. Auntie was waiting for me when I opened the door. It took most of my self control not to push her away when she hugged me.  
  
"There now, don't you feel better?" I shrugged, the urge to talk not present. "Come now, let's go pack up your room!" Her cheerful voice was betrayed by the pain in her eyes.  
  
'You don't have to be strong, Auntie... you can break down.' My thoughts, thankfully, stayed in my head. I wondered briefly if I looked just as fake as Auntie did then, as she talked about how much stuff we could fit in one box, and what to take with on just the return trip. But, that dissipated quickly; I had spent a lot of my life covering up my emotions. Auntie was lucky she that she lived her life openly until now.  
  
She told me to organize things into groups, and I did so. The work was easy and mind numbing. My substantial CD collection was paired with my stereo, portable CD player, and portable radio. Any spare batteries I found buried in the chaos of my room got tossed in that general direction. My books were piled in various stacks at the foot of my bed. Aforementioned bed consisted of two mattresses stacked vertically on the ground. The abnormal collection of stuffed animals was already suffocating in boxes in my closet.  
  
"Taxic?" Auntie had abandoned me in packing prep, retreating to the kitchen. Mother once told me it was a nervous thing for her to cook. Auntie stood just out of the doorway, cordless phone in hand. "Simon's on the phone..."  
  
With a regretful sigh, I took the device from her.  
  
"Hey Dark Princess."  
  
"Simon." My greeting was short, holding none of the affection that his had.  
  
"About last night... I'm sorry." I nodded knowingly. Simon had all the right in the world to feel guilty for trying to seduce a minor. "Um, how are you holding up?"  
  
"I'm okay."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"I guess..." I wanted to strangle my idiot boyfriend. How would he feel if his mother had just been buried in the ground before his very eyes?  
  
"You want to come over later?"  
  
"I can't." I could feel his exasperation. It pulled me under, drowning me in his malcontent. I was slipping. "Simon. I have to go."  
  
"No, Taxic. Please, talk to me! This isn't healthy, what're you doing to your-" The connection died along with his pleading voice. The phone landed on the floor with a thud, and batteries rolled across the floor. I curled up into a protective ball on my bed. The gray clouds blocked out the sun, making my room shadowed and sad. Emotion ebbed away with a sigh. No matter how weary I felt, sleep refused my begging requests.  
  
'Just, let me... please, let me forget it.' Images were born, unbidden, in my head. Blood staining everything. Misshapen metal and a cracked windshield dying on an icy highway. Her limp hand hanging out of the window.  
  
I cradled my head in my hands, a silent scream climbed up my throat. "Please, go away..." A harsh whisper escaped from my mouth. "Leave me alone." Sleep finally came, but with it came nightmares.  
  
I jerked awake as Auntie knocked on my door. "Oh, sweetie, were you taking a nap?" Shrugging, I rubbed at my bare arms. I couldn't remember what I had dreamed about. "Well, I found some boxes in the garage, and your uncle is picking some up from the post office on his way here." Even in the case of a death in the family, Uncle still had to work. "Let's see what we can do on our own, shall we?" From behind her back she produced some flatten card board.  
  
There was plenty of room in the few boxes Auntie found. I dumped a stack of books into one, rearranging them to dissuade bent covers. Auntie peered over my shoulder. "You don't have much stuff, do you?"  
  
"I never liked shopping." I felt a little mean, brushing off all her conversation attempts. But, she couldn't understand, if I talked or let it go, I'd break. I paused for a moment, letting the afternoon sun blind me.  
  
"Well," Auntie babbled, "we're going to have to change that. There are so many nice shops in the city. I'll turn you into a mall fanatic in no time!" I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. She was folding up some shirts and jeans. The meager jewelry I owned was stored in with my books. "Taxic," her voice made me stop. "Is it ever going to get better?"  
  
No answer was found, and the carpet stole all my attention.  
  
Two days later, I was sitting in the back seat of Uncle's car. Everything I owned was neatly tucked out of sight and into an array of boxes. Some unrecognizable singer warbled on the radio, and I tucked my knees under my chin. Tree after tree flew by the window; I gave up on trying to count them. The two adults chattered away in the front, eagerly planning my new life.  
  
I hadn't spoken to Simon since he called. Myca came looking for me yesterday, but Auntie said I was sleeping. Neither of my companions knew how to act around me, and the absence of hanging out with them took its toll on me. I missed Tobias more than I missed my boyfriend or best friend. The kid really understood the need for silence.  
  
Auntie wanted me to open up to her. She craved the relationship she once shared with my cousin. I wished I could, it would've been nice to have someone to share the pain with.  
  
"Taxic?" Uncle looked at me in the rear view mirror. "You want to stop somewhere to get lunch?" Words deserted me, and I shrugged. The fatigue ate away at me, daring my eyes to close. Auntie and Uncle whispered about me, and how I could get help. Somewhere between exits 230 and 244, I drifted into a state of nothing.  
  
We got to the city sometime past midnight. Uncle carried me up, and Auntie followed with my suitcase. The apartment was nice, cozy. Jackie had left most of her furniture behind, and I slept in a bed that smelled like cheap perfume. It felt like home. I wanted to sleep in, but Auntie said that I needed to be registered for school.  
  
School was a place I wanted desperately to avoid. Coming in the middle of the year automatically labeled someone as an outcast. Auntie talked all about the local high school as I munched on toast. Apparently, my cousin had loved it there. Jackie was captain of the cheer squad, most popular girl in the whole facility, and she got voted prom queen. I made a definite mental note to not be Jackie.  
  
"Taxic, do you want to call your friends?" The sudden subject change brought me out of my funk with a startling clarity. "They must be worried about you, especially that Simon boy. Is he your boyfriend?" Auntie smiled, leaning in closer, desperate for some girl talk. I could only supply her with a shrug. "You want to go shopping?" The back of my throat itched.  
  
"I guess." Her smile was genuine as I donned my trench coat and followed her to the busy streets of New York. I put on my mask, following her around as she pointed out her favorite stores. Most of the display windows were filled with outfits in outrageous colors of blue, green, and yellow. I bowed my head, hair falling into my eyes.  
  
"I don't suppose any of this is your style." I shook my head, kicking at the uneven cement. "How about we just get some coffee then go home. I bet you want to unpack, don't you?" I nodded, perking up a little at the thought of caffeine. Auntie looked lonely as we walked back to her apartment, and the drink in my hand tasted like ash. She didn't talk as we carried boxes up to my room; I missed her chatter.  
  
The following Monday, I stood just outside of a full classroom, arms clutching notebooks to my chest. Ignoring Auntie's request to wear something colorful, I had chosen black jeans and a black shirt. My eyes were lowered when the teacher pulled me into the room.  
  
"Class, this is Taxic Peters." My hands balled into fists, nails cutting into the tender flesh of my palm. 20 pairs of eyes studied me, judging me. It was as if they could hear my heart, thudding in my chest. Every single person in that room knew I didn't belong there. "Taxic, why don't you choose a seat?"  
  
"Toxic? Her name's Toxic?" I sat at the desk in the far corner, away from the window. Leaning my pounding head against the wall, I sighed. I wished for sleep, for mind-numbing emptiness. The teacher's lecture stopped that from happening. I felt the people around me shift, trying to inch as far away from my corner as possible. I didn't blame them, if I could, I would do the same.  
  
Lunch was, in short, hell. Word had spread rather quickly that I was either [A] some kind of drugged-out prostitute or [B] just plain whacked out. The food that Auntie packed for me got thrown in the trash. Some girls at the table next to the trash can whispered that I was anorexic too.  
  
'This is just great.' I wished that Myca was there, sitting across from me and stealing my chips. With Myca would be Simon, holding my hand and smiling. Sighing, I laid my head on the table. I could practically feel a good portion of lunching students pointing and staring. 'Try to be normal, Taxic. That should help you not get killed.' It was going to be a long day.  
  
My eyes hurt, as did my throat. The nurse wouldn't give me any medicine either; she said she wasn't authorized to do so. When she said she was sorry, it looked like she really meant it. If I was desperate enough, I might've sneaked back and steal some, but that wasn't the case. I could ignore it for the most part. All the teachers smiled sympathetically at me, half-wary. Apparently, my fabricated past of drugs and sex not only circulated within the students, but also made it to the staff. Great, just great.  
  
Last period was creative writing. The teacher didn't treat me differently, just asked me for my name a few times. I had to smile at the assignment, for it fit my current situation perfectly. We were supposed to write about someone who let us down.  
  
"Taxic, right?" I nodded, scratching at the fake wooden desk. "You don't have to share if you don't want to. I usually give the new kids a week to get used to the class." I nodded again, still scratching. Teacher sighed, a familiar sound to my ears. My silence was met with the same reaction in almost every class. One teacher looked ready to strangle me after I refused to answer his questions. Brutality in the education system was clearly a problem in New York.  
  
Auntie wanted to know all about my day, if I met any friends, and if I saw any cute boys. I shook my head, toeing the kitchen tile. She heaved a great sigh, and I felt like I was back in school. Did I disappoint adults that much? "Oh, Taxic, Simon called earlier. He said it was important and he wants you to call him back."  
  
As I reached for the phone, ignoring Auntie's questioning stare, I prayed for good news. While I dialed, I padded to my room. Something told me this was going to be a private conversation. A voice picked up after the third ring.  
  
"Mmm, hello?" It was not the person I dreaded talking to.  
  
"Tobias." I felt proud to call myself one of the few who could tell the brothers apart.  
  
"Oh," he paused, surprised. "Hey Taxic." Simon yelled something in the background. "Um, Simon wants to talk to you..." His voice faded, and was replaced by his brother.  
  
"Hey sweetheart, how's it going?"  
  
"Hello Simon." My ideal conversationalist was not Simon Devine. Words weren't to be spared in that particular area. We were in LOVE, we understood each other perfectly.  
  
"Look, there's something I really need to talk to you about." My silence threw him off balance. "Um, I don't think this relationship is going to work out, what with you gone and this is my last year of high school." The dull thuds in my head increased, and I bit my lip. "...Taxic?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Is this okay? I mean, I don't want to hurt you or anything..." You'd already hurt me enough. "Taxic! Please, talk to me!"  
  
"Why? You've said all there is to say."  
  
"Look, baby, you'll always be my dark princess, okay?"  
  
"If you say so." I fell into a sitting position, perching on the edge of the bed. Simon's voice became lost in the surge of emotions. The one person I had counted on for being there was slowly disappearing... Disappearing like my sanity.  
  
= =   
  
There be chapter 1! Sorry for the gapage in time, it jumped straight from the accident to the funeral. Heh heh... I want to thank my reviewers, you guys rock! Rock like...a spoon! HA! Put that in your proverbial pipe and smoke it. Thanks to Kayci, whom I love like a lover, for all the help she gave me. Oh, I don't own the song "Gone Away" by The Offspring, or "Empty" by The Cranberries.  
  
I promise, next chapter, we will sorta meet the turtles... Yeah, I'm a bit ashamed of myself... 


	3. 5 3 10 4

"...Schoolyard freaks are freezing, pushed to the ground again   
I'm looking up and west for black to fill the sky   
The sound of bottles breaking still breaking in my ears   
They opened just in time to empty out   
And gouge away the years..."  
  
[ 5-3-10-4, Alkaline Trio ]  
  
My head smacked the desk with a dull thud. The boy in the seat next to me jumped a little at the noise, and I let myself grin in satisfaction. The nagging exhaustion still hadn't left me after a month of living in this insufferable city, and I was beginning to think it was permanent. A girl, presumably the freaked-out boy's girlfriend, glared at me. I had been on the receiving end of a lot of glares as of late.  
  
After about the first week, the Pretty Elite of General High quickly found me a moving target for all sorts of insults. Ever since the first day when some jerk heard my name as "Toxic" I became known as "that radioactive chick over there, in the corner." Rumors had spread about one of my notebooks holding extensive plans and hit lists. I wished.  
  
The cafeteria was a battle ground, one I tried to avoid at all costs. Faceless people staring at me the second I walked in the door, as if they expected me to whip out a gun from nowhere and waste them all. I was never a fan of violence, but the fact that my patience was constantly tested with indignities could easily change my mind.  
  
The hallways were even worse. People I didn't know pushed me, trapping me between the flow of bodies and lockers. My books were constantly knocked to the ground and trampled on. Once, I was almost sent toppling down the stairs. I turned off the pain, picked myself up and pretended it was all a play.  
  
Sophomore year was turning into one hell of a party.  
  
Auntie thought I was getting better, and that the pain of seeing my mother die was slowly fading. It was a good thing she couldn't see the light on in my room every night. The dark was not a comforting place to me anymore. I used to be able to sit in it for hours, just staring at the ceiling or watching the moon, but I lost my grip on the control I had over my memories. With the dark came the reminders. The light made it even harder to sleep.  
  
"Peters!" Teacher Man's voice cut into my musings, and I slowly raised my head, blinking stupidly. What was it with most male teachers calling you by your last name? "Do you have any idea what's going on in the class right now?" My brain barely connected what he said. Teacher Man must've known I wasn't paying attention. "Girl, you've just earned yourself detention." Again, what was with the male teachers identifying you as your gender?  
  
With a moan of disappointment, I dropped my forehead back onto the fake wood. It felt good against my cheek. Someone threw a paper wad at my neck, and it bounced into my lap. I smoothed it out over my legs. The word freak was spelled out in a multitude of neon colors, complete with flowers and hearts. It could've been an advert for the prom, if not for the word choice. With a tired sigh, I carefully folded it up and added it to the growing collection of other projectiles in my binder. The Back Row (home to the Pretty Elite) giggled smartly to themselves.  
  
'How wonderful for you that you can hit a stationary human being.' I thought bitterly to myself, fisting my hands in my skirt. My lip bled under the strain of my front teeth gnawing at it, blood dripped down my chin. I ignored it, raising my head to check the clock.  
  
"Oh my God! She's, like, a vampire too?" I couldn't believe I got up in the morning everyday just for this. Teacher Man went through many emotions following the exclamation. First, anger turned his face an unnatural red. Then, he was confused once the word 'vampire' registered. Finally, he rolled his eyes at the blood on my face, telling me to go to the nurse.  
  
Nurse Lady almost fainted when I walked into her office. I guess she wasn't used to having patients bleeding all over themselves. She muttered about stitches while handing me an ice pack. The frigid cold hurt my teeth, and Nurse glared when I pulled it away from my mouth. I was tempted to ask her if she had any lethal injections, but knew it was stupid. I didn't need suicidal added to my lovely list of dysfunctions. Myca would've been able to do it; she never cared much for reputations. Nurse Lady clucked her tongue when I didn't put the ice back on my lip.  
  
"Keep it in place." She jammed it into my mouth, and the back of my mouth burned at the contrast of hot and cold. I closed my eyes, hand moving up to cradle the side of my head. "Got a headache now, do you?" I nodded, opening my dull eyes. Nurse Lady looked nervously into the hall, then closed the door. "I could get in trouble for this, so keep it quiet." She opened a cabinet, producing a bottle of medication. "Here." Two little pills fell into my hand.  
  
She gave me some water to make taking the medicine easier. "Thank you." Nurse Lady patted my cheek, and I caught sight of her name tag. Julie.  
  
"I knew you could talk." Julie let me stay for the rest of class, making sure my lip didn't start bleeding again. "There you go. Come to me anytime you need help." I tried to smile for her, but instead nodded. Julie laughed, "get going Taxic." I didn't know she knew my name. My head didn't hurt for the remainder of the day.  
  
Detention with Teacher Man sucked. He was mad at me for not coming back after he sent me to the nurse, and I lost the note Julie wrote to excuse me. I almost showed him one of my notes from the Pretty Elite on accident. Teacher Man retreated to his desk, an angry cloud following him, once he figured out I wasn't going to react to his angry tirades.  
  
For my punishment, I was supposed to copy every other word in the dictionary. Instead, I closed my eyes and watched black and white images on my eyelids. Teacher Man growled threateningly, and I refocused onto him.  
  
"I know your type."  
  
'That's unnerving.'  
  
"You kids are all the same."  
  
'I am hardly a kid, thanks.'  
  
"You think you're so depressing."  
  
'Excuse me?'  
  
"You complain all about this country, and plan to move to Europe."  
  
'If you say so.'  
  
"You want to make something of yourself, got big dreams."  
  
'I guess...'  
  
"Lemme tell you something, girl, you're gonna end up a nothing."  
  
'Nothing isn't bad.'  
  
It was a desperate shame that Teacher Man couldn't hear my thoughts, but a blessing too. No one deserved to be inside my head, including myself. While he ranted, I floated up to the ceiling, watching the drama unfold. Ground Me had her head down, and her dead leaf eyes were glazed over. Teacher Man didn't see her obvious disinterest or lack of life. He continued to yell, face getting redder by the second, spittle formed at the corners of his mouth.  
  
I gazed on in sick fascination as Ground Me pushed up from her desk, eyes still on the ground, and shuffled out of the room. Teacher Man looked ready to split a blood vessel. Ground Me bit at her lip, picking at the scab there with her teeth. The confrontation with a teacher had been too much. People were noticing.  
  
Auntie looked worried when I walked in, late from school, with blood covering my lower lip. She wanted to know if I got in a fight. I shook my head.  
  
"Taxic, what happened then?"  
  
"I bit my lip."  
  
"That's an awful lot of blood." The comment was made more to herself, as she soaked a paper towel in water, and dabbed lightly at my mouth. Her hands on my shoulders kept me from moving away. "Taxic, I need to talk to you." A dull ache started up again in my head, this was not good news.  
  
"I'm worried about you, sweetie. You don't talk much." She petted my hair, acting motherly. "I got a call from the school; they think you're on drugs." It was painfully blatant that Auntie wanted me to tell her otherwise. She wanted me to convince her that I was okay. Sad thing was, I couldn't even tell myself I was okay. "Are you... are you on drugs?  
  
I shook my head, watching her visibly relax. Auntie's trust in me was endearing, yet disturbing. The faculty at my high school had just confessed the notion I was a potential drug addict, and she believed my word over the respected opinion of a school board. "I'll let you get started on your homework... Dinner's gonna be a little late tonight, your uncle has to work."  
  
Hugging my messenger bag to my chest, I backed out of the kitchen, retreating to the confines of my room. Uncle had warned me many times not to play my music loud enough to bother the neighbors, seeing as we lived next to a rather older couple. After I plugged my stereo in, I went about the task of finding my CD case. Being the lazy creature I was, my room was still residence to a few cardboard boxes. Those things made nifty hampers.  
  
Alkaline Trio was a good band.  
  
Tobias had once tried to teach me how to play one of their songs on the guitar, but I couldn't get my fingers to work properly. Myca kept laughing at me too, which didn't help either. Banishing thoughts of my friends, I sat down on my bed with my notebook in my lap.  
  
The only class I considered worthy of my attention was creative writing. Teacher (whom I found out was named Mrs. Grant) requested that we simply write for an hour or so straight. Mrs. Grant was cool, like Julie. They didn't make me talk.  
  
As soon as my pen tip touched the paper, it all poured out.  
  
"I'm tired, and sick, and I don't know who I am anymore. Simon dumped me, I hate him I love him. I want a friend to keep me sane; Myca should move down here. I can't sleep. Someone must have noticed how I'm falling apart. Can't you tell? Auntie thinks I'm on drugs, she doesn't believe me when I say I'm not. Maybe she does, I can't tell.  
  
Does anyone notice I don't talk? Do they think I'm mute? Do they think I'm retarded? I don't know what I am anymore, and I miss Tobias. Tobias was nicer to me then Simon. Simon doesn't understand. He wanted me to have sex, he didn't get that I wasn't ready. I said no, I said no... and then I left. I left without saying good bye. He knew it was over. I just can't tell if I knew.  
  
Myca hasn't called, I wanna talk to her. I want her to tell me I'll be okay. I want someone, ANYONE, to tell me I'll be okay. I'm not okay. I'm not gonna live through this. I can't do it anymore. I need help. My head won't stop aching, and my throat burns. Maybe that's why I can't talk. My voice hurts my own brain. Breathing makes my mouth itch. When I sneeze, I taste blood. I always taste blood now. Eating isn't worth it... I think I'm going crazy."  
  
My hand started shaking, and I dropped my pen. I was falling fast into an oblivion of nothing. Sliding off the bed, I crawled to one of the bigger boxes. Still shivering, I wrapped my arms around my knees and rocked back and forth in my cardboard cave. Auntie knocked only once when she told me dinner was ready and left not soon after.  
  
Covering my ears, I dug my finger nails into my skull, praying for something to make me normal. The music still played, and I tried to eat my lip; it tasted like metal on my tongue. If I tried hard enough, maybe I could swallow my body into empty blankness.  
  
I woke up in the morning to the guitar of Alkaline Trio with a red-raw mouth. I hadn't managed to devour me yet, which was a grave disappointment in itself. I'm sure the greater population of General High supported my self-destructive ways complete with cheer routines and posters.  
  
Taking extra care, I cleaned all the blood from my face with a warm washcloth. My face looked wicked pale in the mirror, and I hated myself for it. "You're going to be the death of me," I whispered to my reflection. I touched my hand to the glass, laying it flat across my double's eyes. "But not if I can kill you first."  
  
Auntie sent me back to my room as soon as I entered the kitchen. "Sweetie, you've been wearing those pants for a week straight! Go change into something else." With a tired sigh, I returned to my quarters, finding a pair of jeans on the floor. Pulling my tee over my head, I grabbed a long sleeved shirt to replace it. I paused to gather my books, and shoulder my bag. Rubbing at my elbow, I presented my new outfit to my aunt.  
  
Auntie opened her mouth, then closed it as I tied up my Chucks. "Don't you ever get tired of black?" I shrugged. "Don't you ever get tired of being silent?" Again, I shrugged. Exasperated, she handed me some toast and pointed to the door. "You're going to be late."  
  
My breath formed clouds in the December air, and I pulled my books tighter to my chest. The icy slush on the ground froze my feet through my shoes. 'Should've worn boots.' A group of kids from my school walked by, hands full of lattes and thoughtless happiness. I wanted to kick them in the face and pour the scorching coffee in their eyes. Making sure to keep my distance from them as we gathered on the corner, I watched the DO NOT WALK sign.  
  
"Look, it's that freaky chick from school." I sighed.  
  
'No good deed ever goes unpunished.'  
  
"She's creepy, I bet she's on drugs." I rubbed my temple with my free hand, trying to block out their cheap, plastic voices.  
  
"Oh my God, that is so last week. Listen here ladies," the presumed leader flipped her fake blonde hair over her shoulder. "I heard that," she paused, making sure everyone was sucking up the rumors, "that she got an abortion, and the baby wasn't her boyfriend's." How they found out I even had a boyfriend was beyond me. Must've been a blonde mafia thing.  
  
"So, she's a slut?"  
  
"A druggie slut." I bit my lip, trying to keep the scream protests inside. They didn't deserve to know the truth. I couldn't let them taint the memory of my mother or my friends with questions and accusations. I comforted myself with the fact that I, who paid zero attention in class, was still going to graduate with more honors then them.  
  
"Hey! Radioactive!" The idea slowly lost its appeal, as Blonde Leader turned to me with a dangerously sweet smile. "I totally love your outfit, I was just wondering... Did the drugs that are stuffed in your pants come with it?" I closed my eyes, knowing I was fighting a losing battle. Sure, I might've been smarter then them in the bitter end, but they would have the happier memories.  
  
That's all that really matters, after all, the memories.  
  
I ate lunch with Julie, and she said she was glad for the company. I sat on one of the beds, with my legs folded, and she perched on the side of a table. I shared my chips with her, and she let me have some of her coffee.  
  
"Taxic, don't you want to eat with your friends?" I paused, not sure how to approach this new topic. Friends were something of the past, something that I kept locked up in my closet of remembering.  
  
"I don't have friends." I didn't want pity. Coming to terms with my lack of companions was fairly easy; no one at General High seemed to fit into my category... whatever my category was, anyway. "People don't like me here."  
  
"Well, from what I've seen of the kids in this grand facility, and believe me it's a lot, I can honestly say that you're one of the more genuine characters here. It's refreshing. Don't change Taxic; you're the one who's going to make it somewhere."  
  
That was the nicest thing anyone had said to me since I moved. Auntie told me things would get better, and Mrs. Grant told me I had talent... But, Julie was something else. She was the school nurse; she didn't have to talk to a reject like me. She could've just treated my cut and sent me on my way.  
  
I didn't realize she had hugged me until I smelled her perfume. She smelled like Mother. I didn't mean to start crying.  
  
Mrs. Grant wanted me to read my paper out loud; she said that there was raw emotion and feeling. She stopped there, because my eyes had gotten so big she thought I was going to faint. She told me never mind, and sent me back to my desk at the back of the class. A kid tossed a paper wad at my face as I passed. Mrs. Grant picked it up and then told the kid to apologize, and that he had detention for thinking it was funny to insult classmates.  
  
I felt a bit better as I curled up in my plastic chair in the corner. The kid glared at me the whole time, but the wall had captivated my attention and I was inclined to ignore him. I did stupid things like that on occasion, you must understand. When my eyes closed, I thought I could see my mother's face.  
  
Mrs. Grant stopped me at the door. "Taxic, are you okay? Judging by your work, I don't think things were easy for you back home. Do you want to talk about it?" I shook my head, wishing I could nod instead. I had recently discovered my body did the opposite of what I wanted it to do. "Alright, hon, but my door is always open."  
  
I chewed my lip, fighting the bitter tired that threatened me. With my hands balled into nervous fists, I shuffled to the hall. Auntie wanted to talk to me about something rather important, or so she had said. As I stood in the hall, trying to determine what homework I needed to do, they cornered me.  
  
"We hear you got our friend in trouble." There were three of them, including the kid who had detention for the paper wad. One of them cracked their knuckles.  
  
My mouth went dry.  
  
"See, bitch, we don't like it when people mess with us. It tends to lead to nasty accidents..." They grinned evil smiles. "You've been asking for this for awhile, haven't you?"  
  
I tried to take a deep breath.  
  
It happened rather quickly. First, they ripped my books out of my hands, flinging them all over the hall. Two of them held my arms, while the other punched me in the stomach; I never was a strong girl. I tried to fight the tears and whimpers, but my attempts were in vain.  
  
"I think she likes it, man!" They dropped my hands, and I doubled over. "They say you're a vampire, and vampires like the dark." Blood dripped from my mouth, as I bit my lip. "Let's give her a permanent coffin, shall we?"  
  
It was dark in the locker, and I couldn't breathe. Was this what it was like for Mother when they buried her? My nails were torn from trying to break out. I choked on my sobs and panic attacks. 'Oh God. Oh God. I can't see, what's going on...' The darkness provided by my coffin was no different then when I closed my eyes. 'No, I can't breathe. This isn't right... I don't want to die...' My throat burned, as did my head. Nothing was coming out straight, and my fingers were bleeding. I could feel the stickiness on my palms. I rested my forehead against the hot metal, hands curling into fists on the door.  
  
Pushing myself away, I braced my back against the locker side connected to the door. Trying to stay calm, I kicked at the door with the bottom of my feet.  
  
The cold air felt refreshing as I tumbled out of the locker. I left bloody hand prints on the floor, and the inside of the locker door was scratched up and dented. I crouched on the floor, ravaged hands gripping my shoulders. The school was deserted. Trying hard not to break down, I retrieved my notebooks and papers. They became stained with my blood. I gasped, leaning against the wall in the stairwell.  
  
'I shouldn't be here...' My sobs bounced in the empty chamber, and I had to run from my voice. 'I can't go back, I gotta get away.' It was dark when I finally made it outside, turning the sky an ominous black. Suffocating on my scattered thoughts, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. 'It's over, it's over, it's over. You're gonna be okay...'  
  
I opened my eyes again, licking my dry lips and tasting blood, and stared at the ground. I knew for a fact that there'd be a lot of explaining to do. With my head bent and wet hair in my eyes, I started on my way home. New York City was a dangerous place at night; I should've known that at least. The hand that grabbed my wrist reminded me of my stupidity. I hazarded a glance back, fearing the faces of the dudes from before. It was not high school boys that stood behind me, but a group of men, a group of angry, drunk men.  
  
I was dragged to an alleyway, and once again parted with my books. "Alright kid, give us your money." I had no money, nothing to give them. I didn't move. "I said give us your money bitch!"  
  
"She don't have any money man, look at her." The leader of this unruly mob grinned showing uneven teeth. "What should we do with the broad then?" Hands on my shoulders pushed me against the side of a building. I stared up at the sky, determined not to look at the men in front of me.  
  
'This isn't real, this isn't real...'  
  
I bit my lip, closing my eyes. "You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" I grimaced as a finger trailed down the side of my face. "And, you're so young..." He slid a hand under and up my shirt, but that was as far as he got.  
  
"I think you better leave the kid alone." It was a new voice, different. He turned around, withdrawing his hand, surprise evident on his face. I slid to the ground, pulling my knees to my chest and ignoring the fight. I took a few deep shuddering breaths before breaking down. Everything was crashing around me, exploding in my head. I was going to be in so much trouble if and when I got home.  
  
My brain was killing me, and I didn't want to think. Thinking led to stupid actions on my part. As the last thug hit the ground, I raised my head. It hurt my eyes to blink.  
  
"Hey... you okay?" For the record, it wasn't entirely my fault when I passed out.  
  
= =   
  
Hmmm, that was interesting. There's also an original version of this fic (under my friend's account at fiction press) where she doesn't meet the turtles. The ending kinda sucks on that one though... I don't own the teenage mutant ninja turtles or the song 5-3-10-4 by Alkaline Trio. If you can't tell, I've got really diverse music tastes...eh heh...  
  
Blah, this was kind of a filler chapter, but I wanted to set up the fact that Taxic is an utter reject. I have not actually come in contact with bullying of this degree, but if anyone out there has, let it be known:  
  
THEY SHALL GET THEIR COME-UPPANCE! ...You also have not my pity but my admiration.  
  
I love my reviewers. You people rock... Rock like a marble.  
  
And (I know, this goes on forever) on the spoon comment: the end part of a spoon- the bowl part, it rocks a little.   
  
Oh, and Taxic has no magical powers... she's just your average depressed high school student. I am considering some romance for her, but I'm not sure if she should get back with Simon or a turtle. I also wonder if she's too young for any kind of romance. She's only 15, and that is young for what she's been through/will go through. Hell, I'm still 14!  
  
OH SNAP! I'm going on vacation for two weeks... so, I'm sorry... 


	4. Monkey

"...Hello me,  
Are you in there  
Making sure you're not dead,  
Smelled some rotting flesh..."

[ Monkey, Saves the Day ]

Waking up wasn't fun at all. I jerked out of my sleep, afraid of being late for school, and fell out of bed. I rolled over onto my side, breath escaping in a slight sigh, and tried to sit up. My hands were cleaned and numb with bandaged palms; it hurt to move my fingers.

"Oh, you're awake." A voice said from the doorway. I turned, and blinked. A giant turtle stood leaning against the door jam. Okay, that was strange. Trying not to stare, I looked down at my watch. To say the least, I spazzed.

20 minutes until the bell rang, and I didn't have my homework done. Not that it was anything new, but I didn't actually enjoy the look of disappointment when my teachers saw I didn't do the assignment. "Hey, where do you think you're going off to?"

"School." Short answer, could be considered rude. "Where's my bag?" He held up my messenger bag, the strap was torn. 'Damn. I can duct tape it later, I guess.' I dug it through it, making sure most of my stuff was there. I paused in my searching to rub my head. 'Ow, damn it. Head ache, pain... going to die.'

"Kid, are you okay?" My bag fell to the floor, pens rolling across the room. I followed soon after, slipping into welcomed darkness.

I dreamt that I was walking down the hallway in my school, only it stretched on forever. There weren't any doors or lockers either, just kids lining the wall, pointing and laughing. Above their heads were the many notes I had gotten from the Pretty Elite.

I tripped on the hem of my dress, falling. I looked down, noticing for the first time the dress was Mother's wedding gown. Even though we were close to the same size, it was big on me; the sleeves hung way past my hands and the skirt got caught in my legs.

Biting insults were hurled at my face, getting stuck there with bitter adhesive.

"Freak."

"Bitch."

"Damn whore."

I closed my eyes, opening them as someone grabbed hold of my arms. Simon Devine dragged me to a locker at the very dead end of the hall, and shoved me in. The door clanged shut with a metal finality. My hands started bleeding, and the walls closed in. I screamed that I wasn't dead, and that they should let me out of my coffin.

A gentle touch on my back startled me, I was no longer in the cramped locker anymore, but in an empty space of nothing. Mist swirled around me, brushing against my hands like comforting air. Julie stood behind me, and she spoke with my mother's voice.

"You're worth more than they could ever know, love. Don't forget that." Where she touched my back, a set of black wings unfurled and fluttered. "Just fly away..." My bare feet lifted off the ground, and I smiled. "Let go... and fly away."

I yawned, rubbing at my eyes. It felt like they were sealed shut, and judging by the amount of daily eye make-up I wore, it wasn't a surprise. My muscles stretched painfully as I tried to sit up again. Drawing my knees to my chest, I rested my head on them. Dreams were always confusing. My watch told me that school was well underway into 5th period. So much for trying to get over what happened and get on with my so-called life.

'Great, not only am I a supposed druggie, but also I play hooky too.' Sighing I stretched my legs out, rotating my ankles. 'Where did my shoes go?' Deciding to pursue the issue later, I crossed my legs, laying my arms across them. 'I have to remember to thank them for helping me,' I wiggled my fingers, 'and for wrapping my hands.'

I wished desperately for my CD player; that would help me take my mind off of things. 'Oh well, staying away is just prolonging the obvious abuse I shall receive for getting out of their locker trap.' "Getting shoved into lockers sucks."

"As I imagine it would." I jumped, eyes darting to the door way. An elderly rat leaned on a walking stick. That was almost as strange as, if not stranger than, the turtle. "Please, calm yourself, my child. We have no intention of harming you."

I made room for him to sit on the bed, which he did so. I stared at my hands, picking slightly at my chipped nail polish and scabby fingers. There was something oddly comforting in the way he called me his child. It wasn't condescending, simply a statement. Compared to him, I was probably a little bitty kid. "Is something troubling you?"

I shook my head, banishing the tears to behind my eyes. I had cried enough, it was time to move on. I think he knew he wasn't going to get much out of me. A yell and thud sounded in the other room, grabbing his attention.

"Perhaps it is time that you meet the rest of our family." I followed him, silent as always. I stared at the ground, trying not to bite my lip. I had to let it heal, that's what Julie said when I came to school with it raw, or it could get infected.

'You know, people want me to talk. I should try and do what they want once in a while.' Wrapping my arms around my middle, I dug my fingernails into my side. 'My abnormality scares me.'

"Hey, the babe's awake!" I paused, I had never been called babe before. It was the way ...I didn't know the rat's name... had said 'my child'. Simply a statement of life. Perhaps I was a babe, or at least a chick. Was I a babe? Simon seemed to think so, but Simon was a horny 18-year-old. What did he know? "What's your name babe?"

Lying on the floor was another turtle. There were two more on the couch, one of which being the guy from earlier. Harmless, freakishly big turtles. Okay, that was still weird. I raised my eyes to the concrete ceiling, kicking lightly and pushing on my shoulders, I freed myself from my body. I hovered above them all, watching as Ground Me stuttered out our name. I grimaced as she hugged herself tighter.

The turtle on the floor said that we already knew Master Splinter, and then gestured to the rat. Splinter nodded and took his leave. Floor Turtle introduced himself as Michelangelo, but we could call him Mikey or Mike. The two on the couch were Donatello and Raphael.

Ground Me gave a hesitant wave. Michelangelo said that their oldest brother, Leonardo, was training. It never occurred to me to ask what he was training for. The turtles watched her hesitantly as she nodded, staring at the floor and chewing on her lip.

'Stop that! You're going to make it bleed again.' Ground Me was invited to sit with them, and watch TV. She glanced upwards, and I nodded. Ever the hesitant one, Ground Me lowered herself to the ground, automatically pulling her legs to her chest, resting her chin atop them.

'You...I... We need to act more social, or people are gonna think we need to be committed.' An almost smile flickered across her face, but disappeared rapidly as the news came on. I woke up in my body with a jarring slap.

"We're sorry to interrupt your regular programming, but we have some breaking news." Raphael groaned, as did Michelangelo. My face turned paler by the second as the story progressed. "At a local high school, a locker was found open this morning. Blood was smeared on the dented inside, and hand prints were on the floor as well."

I didn't mean to make the news, honest. God, what was Auntie going to say? "More blood was found in dried streaks on the walls of the stairwell." The turtles' complaints died away as more details were expressed.

Images were shown of the evidence, and I tired not to whimper. It was all there, in my head. If they needed a story, they could just extract it from my brain. I had tried to forget it, and bury it, but no. The damn media always brought things back for you. I was positive they weren't going to mention the suffocating or the darkness, or how I felt like my mother.

The newscaster continued, oblivious to my anxiety. "While the staff of General High is reluctant to share any opinions, the students feel nothing holding them back. Let's go and interview some of General High's population, shall we? It seems as though they have a lot to say."

'I'm sure,' I thought dryly to myself, 'I wonder if they're going to play the pity or talk me up to some kind of drugged whore.' The camera moved to the Pretty Elite, where they stood with blonde hair and perfect lip gloss. My head pounded dully.

"Yeah, like, we don't know who it is for sure... but, like, we're almost positive it's, um... Can we say her name?" Reporter nodded. "Okay, well, her name's Taxic Peters or something like that." I could feel the stares of my reptilian companions drilling holes in my head. "It was probably her, right guys?" She turned to her mindless followers. "I mean, she's only been here a month, and she's totally cut herself off the entire world!"

"Yeah!" A girl piped up behind her. "Taxic was a total freak, yanno? She hated everyone, and she so tried to sell me drugs once. I bet she tried to like, kill herself in the locker. But, it didn't work or something, so she skipped school to drown herself in beer. That's what I'd do, if like, I was her."

'Well, I'm so glad you're, like, not me.' I glared at the screen, cursing the Blonde Mafia into hell.

"Interesting, let's see what some of the male portion has to say." My fingers turned cold, the camera was focused on one of my locker friends.

"Taxic, she was the freaky goth chick, right?" Reporter nodded. "Oh, yeah! Man, she got me a detention. I wasn't do nothing too, I mean, out of nowhere the teacher comes down on me sayin that Taxic said I attacked her or somethin'. Man, I dunno what that girl is trippin' on, but it's something heavy."

"Dude, yes!" Another jock stood beside him, and the camera panned out to accommodate them. "That chick was so screwed up. We were there when she tried to kill herself in the locker. We were all like, don't do it! But, she wouldn't listen, yanno?"

The overall vocabulary of Pretty Elite Members astounded me into silence.

The reporter closed with parting promises of more information as it is uncovered. 'What else is there to say? That I did most of the guys at school? That I had an abortion?' I sighed as a commercial came on, and someone behind me turned off the TV with a deadly click. 'Ulp. This isn't good.'

"I think," Raphael growled from the couch, "that it's time we had a little chat with our new friend." Wonderful, I had yet another reason to despise every single person at my school. My eyes grew to twice their size, and my throat burned. Donatello, who had been sitting there silent, looked over at me.

"I do have some questions, yeah..." I had to talk. Now was the time to set the record straight, but I wasn't ready. I didn't know if I could prove myself innocent or even if I had the guts to talk against my so-called peers. They obviously believed I would just lie down and let them get away with it. "Is what they said true?"

I shrugged. Maybe I would, too. What was the point? The second I walked through the scarred wooden doors and down the scuffed hallways of General High, the Pretty Elite had me beaten, and they knew it. It was their word against mine. The adorable, lovable blondes of General High or the dark, scary loser, take your pick. No contest there.

"Even if I said it wasn't, would it matter?" Michelangelo crouched in front of me, his brothers behind him. 'I'm the outcasted sophomore.' I added silently. 'The seniors plain don't care, the freshmen are freaking scared of me, the juniors hate me and all sophomores, and my fellow 10th graders want to see me dead.' High school was a bitter, bitter cycle. "I'm the freak at my school."

"So, you're just going to give up?"

"What else is there to do?" As I said that, Raphael glared at the ground, looking ready to kill something. Lowering my head, I rested it against my knees; I wanted to sleep. I thought that they would've left me alone, deserting me in my wallowing ways.

"You can fight back." That was entirely new to me, that concept of taking a stand against the bitter politics of high school. I didn't know if I could do it, though. They already had so many rumors destroying my credibility. They had their evidence and support of everyone, I had nothing. Funny how often the odds were dead set against me.

"There's no point to." My voice was muffled by my arms; I could feel my body starting to shake. 'They'll win. They always do. It sucks to be at the bottom of society.'

It hit me just then how I wasn't bothered by the obvious hatred people felt for me. Sure, it was a tad bit annoying, but what was I going to do about it? Not much. Maybe I was too used to it. They say that kids that who get abused are scared of any thing but the smacking. In a very demented way, I found comfort in the fact that I knew what to expect from my classmates.

God, I really needed help.

I tired to escape and drift up to the ceiling, to avoid my twisted musings, but something kept me nailed to the ground. My only means of escape was gone. Enviously, I stared heavenward, begging with my glazed over eyes.

"What is it you want?" The ceiling whispered to me, with a voice cracking and crumbling.

'I want... to fly away...' Desperately, I wished for the wings Julie/Mother had granted me in my dream. I wanted nothing more than to escape the stereotype I had been slapped with. Slowly, I was being broken down. Soon there would be nothing left but a shivering mass of bones.

I stashed that mental picture in the closet of my brain, with all the insults I had been bruised with for the past month. That was where I kept all my horrible memories that were too precious to give up.

It vaguely registered that Michelangelo was waving a hand in my face. I blinked, eyes refocusing on the turtle. "You okay?" I shrugged. Who knew if I was okay or not? "You went all spacey on us for a minute there, babe." Not knowing what to say, my eyes flickered to my watch. Half past four.

'Fuck.' I wasn't one to swear, but Auntie probably expected me to be home at least an hour ago. And, if she'd seen the news, then I would have a lot of explaining to do. 'Oh, man.' "Where's my bag?" Michelangelo pointed towards the hallway I had come from earlier. Nodding, I took off in that direction. I literally ran into Raphael on the way.

"Hey, where's she going?" His brother shrugged.

"Getting' her back pack or something." Biting my lip, I tied the broken ends of the strap together and tugged. I never noticed how heavy it was getting, probably all those damn notes from the Pretty Elite. I should have a bon fire with them soon. It was getting awesomely cold outside, wasn't it? Hefting the thing up onto my shoulder, I returned to the couch-ly area.

"I need to get home." Yeah, that was just plain rude. 'I need to learn manners.' "My aunt... will probably kill me." The world was pitted against me. Donatello studied me from where he sat on the couch. He gave me directions on how to get to the topside. "Thank you for bandaging my hands..." He nodded.

"Taxic," I turned at Michelangelo's voice. "Come back and visit us, alright?" I nodded. Who really knew if I truly meant it? I probably did, and with an inner smile, I promised myself that I would indeed come back and visit this odd little family living under the city. Taking a deep breath, I half-ran half-shuffled my way out of the sewers and into the dim sunlight of New York.

Auntie was not as angry as I had thought. She told me, that Uncle was pissed off because the boys at work had seen the news, though. She wanted me to apologize to him. I kept it to myself that it wasn't my fault, and that it had all been lies.

"Taxic, honey..." Auntie petted my head as I sat at the kitchen table. "Why didn't you tell me?" I bit my tongue, keeping the explosion of words inside my head. "Won't you tell me the truth?" Clenching my eyes shut, I breathed heavily through my nose. "Won't you tell me anything?" For the second time that day, I tried to escape.

Viewing my unraveling from the kitchen ceiling would've been so much better than actually living it out. I was glued in my chair, feet nailed to the floor; it felt like there was blood filling my shoes. I had to check to make sure there wasn't blood leaking all over the tile.

"I'm not mad, Taxic, I'm just worried." Swallowing, I scratched at the old table. "I want you to open up to me! I want you to tell me what's been happening at school. I want to know where you were last night, and I want to know why you weren't at school today. Just, please, grant me that..."

She was getting desperate, and it scared me.

"Please, tell me the truth! Are you on drugs? Did you try and kill yourself? Just tell me anything!" My lips were sewn shut, and eventually Auntie left, crying. I heard her as I stumbled to my room. It echoed in my head, carving itself into my brain.

It hurt like hell to breathe. It felt like my skull was on fire as I glanced around my room. It wasn't mine, it was a borrowed prison. This was my cousin's domain and I was not welcome. Escape was a sure definite.

"I can't stay here." I whispered this to myself as I blankly stared out the window. I knew it though, so did Auntie. I didn't belong with them, I couldn't. I reminded her too much of my mother. She didn't want to look me in the eye. Methodically, I emptied out my messenger bag. I went about the task of preparing myself a survival pack.

In place of a calculator, I had a plan; in place of pens, I had batteries; in place of text books, I had my CD player and CDs; in place of notebooks, I had clothing. Stripping down to nothing, I changed my under things, and donned a pair of nice, clean, black jeans. I pulled a tank top over my head and a black shirt over that. I slipped a sweater over my ears, tugging it into place and smoothing it over my ribs. I felt like a much screwed up version of Buffy the Vampire slayer.

Scrubbing my face clean, I re-did my make up with precision and care. Pulling back from the mirror, I pursed my lips. All I saw was a skinny, pale little gross girl, with druggie eyes. Grimacing, I stuffed some cash into the inner-most pocket of my trench. Picking up my converse, I folded them down lovingly and stuffed them into the bag. I would need my boots for this.

In one corner of my room, a pair of boots rested. They were steel-toed, with buckles at the top and going down. I loved them almost more than I loved my music. Once I slipped my socked feet into my boots, I kissed my fingers and zipped them up. As an after thought, I grabbed the cell phone I never used off my shelf and tucked it into the pocket with my money. I unplugged the charger, and rolled it up and shoved it down to the bottom of my messenger bag.

Once I was done packing and preparing, I slid my trench coat off, and put on my bag. The weight was more comfortable then it was before, when it was stuffed full of books and school things. With a sad smile, I once again shrugged into my coat. Not sparing my room any more thought, I opened the window, waved my Alkaline Trio poster good bye and disappeared into the night.

I could've sworn that I heard Daniel, Derek, and Matt bid me farewell and good luck. It must've been my ears playing tricks though; no one would dream of wishing me well. Jamming my hands into my pockets, I began my long walk to anywhere. Any tears I might've shed would have frozen in the early December air, and I used that as an excuse to why I wasn't crying.

The stars above me laughed when the whimpers escaped from my mouth, and I looked up with a glare, causing my tears to trail down my face faster. I always lied to myself anyway; it just made my head and throat hurt. Finding a bench in the park a few blocks down from the apartment complex, I pulled out my cell. There was only one person I knew of who could help me now... and she picked up only after the fourth ring.

"Hey Myca... It's Taxic."

= =

Oh ho ho! I'm feeling evil. That's kinda like a cliffy, I suppose. Oh! Daniel, Derek, and Matt are all members of the band Alkaline Trio. Daniel Andriano does vocals and bass guitar, Matt Skiba does vocals and lead guitar, and Derek Grant plays drums. I also got the name for Taxic's creative writing teacher from Derek.

I don't own the song "Monkey" by Saves the Day... I also claim no ownage over TMNT... I'm sorry if the bit with the guys in it sucked. I don't think I've got that good of a grasp on their

I'm checking around the few TMNT sites I found, trying to do some character study. I refuse to stay in this suckage of... suckiness! HA! IN YOUR FACE! ...Oh, if you want Taxic to be paired with someone/someturtle, tell me. I do listen, well... sometimes.


	5. Mad World

"...All around me are familiar faces  
Worn out places, worn out faces  
Bright and early for their daily races  
Going nowhere, going nowhere  
Their tears are filling up their glasses  
No expression, no expression  
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow  
No tomorrow, no tomorrow..."

[ Mad World, Gary Jules ]

Her reaction was something I should've expected, but didn't.

"TAXIC? Whoa, haven't heard from you in a good while. What's the deal?" I sighed, pulling a leg up and wrapping my arm around it. "Oh, I know what that means." The street lamp above me flickered, I watched it wearily. "I heard about Simon, how are you holding up?

"I'm okay." Myca missed the lie and made a humming noise. She would've been able to catch it if we had been talking face to face.

"He's going out with some blonde now. Great guy, that ex boyfriend of your's." I bit my lip, hand fisting in the material of my pants. "Tobias misses you. Apparently, you were the only thing that kept Simon from wailing on 'im."

'Oh great. Just what I need, more guilt on my conscience.' "Poor kid..."

"Ah, don't worry. He's spending more time out of the house and he practices his guitar too." I paused, shifting. It seemed as if the night moved with me. Was that all I was to the world? Just another patch of dark?

"He doesn't go to your house?"

"He used to, but now I can't see anyone. I'm under house arrest." Myca laughed nervously. "Yeah, my mom kinda found some drugs of mine, so I can't go anywhere or do anything." I sighed.

"Guess you can't come and see me?"

"Yeah, I was thinking about it for Christmas break. Maybe Satan will let me out of my cell for a few days. Hey, how is it there? Are the kids treating you okay at school?"

'No. They hate me. They want me dead' "It's okay." On Myca's side, I heard a door open and my friend cuss. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not supposed to be on the- Don't, you little brat! Hey! Come back here!" A little girl squeaked in the background. "Phone. Gah, oh damn." The little girl yelled something, and I could make out Mrs. Thompson reprimanding her daughter.

"I clearly stated that you are not to use the phone, young lady. Hand it over." The only person I knew who could handle my bizarre friend was her mother, who I assumed was equally bizarre in her own ways.

"No... I was in the middle of a conversation! Damn it woman! Give me my phone back! Hey! I was talking to someone! Woman!" Myca's whining disappeared as her mother took over.

"Be quiet! I should give you another week for being so disrespectful!" She paused, "I'm sorry, who is this?"

"This is Taxic, ma'am."

"Oh," her voice lightened considerably. "I'm sorry dear, Myca won't be able to talk you anymore... or anyone for that matter."

"Like hell I won't!" Myca yelled in the background.

"Just for that, you get another month!" I winced; grounding had never been very easy on Myca. Her mother was a bit of a Nazi at times. "I'm sorry Taxic, but we have to go now." The phone went dead and I was left staring at it in disbelief.

'Great,' I exhaled in a rushing sigh. 'Now what?' I couldn't go back to my Aunt's home (it was never really my house in the first place) and try to explain the complexity of high school. There wasn't a single chance I could get a ride back to my old neighborhood. Who would take me in once I got there, anyway?

Not that it mattered, but it was half past nine. I blinked, rubbing at my face with my sleeve. The temperature was dropping and I was going to have to find a place to stay fast. I amused myself by pretending to smoke a cigarette, my breath forming mini clouds in the night air and it took my mind off of things for a brief minute. A 10-second vacation, if you will.

Straightening my legs out in front of me, I stretched my arms. New York City was not a good place to be at night and alone. I knew that already from the previous night. The stars in the sky told me how stupid I was being and that I should find a place to camp out. I shot back that there was nowhere I could go. The stars pointed out that I could break into the school and sleep there for the night.

I gagged at the very thought. School was painful enough in the daytime, and there was no way in hell I would sleep there. I yawned, standing up. If I was gonna find a hotel or something, I had better start somewhere. Slipping my phone back into a pocket, I raised my eyes upward. 'Let's get this freak show on the road.' My eagerness was disturbing.

It was with a depressed stare that I stumbled on the sidewalk. Deciding to ration my cash, I ignored my brain's begging for coffee. Even though the caffeine would help me stay alert, it would also cost a lot. I bowed my head, contemplating my next move. Calling Myca was clearly out of the question, and I wasn't about to get in touch with Simon.

I growled exasperatedly as some hair fell in front of my eyes. Without even noticing it, I pulled my hair back and secured it with an elastic. Without my dark curtain, I felt naked and exposed. Heat reddened my face, and I kicked at the ground nervously.

'I need to get out of here.' I rubbed my hands together, getting a look at my watch. 'Almost midnight.' A slight vibration against my breast startled me. I retrieved my cell phone, flipping it open and answering.

"Hello?"

"Taxic!" Myca's voice was hushed. "I can't be on long... everyone's asleep now." I remained silent, letting her do the talking. "I called your aunt, but she said she didn't know where you were." I opened my mouth, but she continued. "I'm not gonna tell her I got a hold of you, I figger you don't want her to know. Just, stay safe, Taxic, okay?"

"I'll try."

"Where are you right now? I mean, do you have a place to sleep?" I shrugged, forgetting that she couldn't see me. "Look, I have to go now, but I promise I'll call you. And, when I can't... I'll get Tobias to. He could really use the human contact, poor kid." I bade her fare well, and she did the same. I felt like sobbing when she hung up.

'What about me? I need the human contact too.' Angrily, I shoved the phone into my jeans pocket. Curse Myca for getting herself in trouble. I needed her help more than anyone else, and she couldn't give it to me. How many times had I helped her? I rubbed my head, trying to banish the onslaught of pain that was forming. 'Just calm down, and focus on finding a place to stay.'

I studied the buildings, turning in a slow circle; something about this place screamed déjà vu. As I completed my fourth rotation and started my fifth, it hit me. The alley in front of me was where I had climbed out of the turtle's domain. A heated debate was forming in my head as soon as I reached the conclusion that I was indeed close to my shelled saviors.

'Michelangelo did tell me to come back, right?'

'He could've just been saying that.'

'You sure?'

'No, but I don't want to impose. I'm just going to be a burden.'

'You really think so?'

'Yeah, I do.'

'Well, with that in mind, tally ho!'

With slumped shoulders, and a look of perpetual confusion, I slid the sewer cover off. Taking a deep breath, I lowered my body down into the endless pipe maze. Getting back to the lair was not as hard as I had originally thought. I moved slowly, keeping one hand over my mouth to stifle my breathing. Squinting blindly, I tried to make out any shapes in the pitch darkness. I gave up, and dropped to my knees.

Eventually, I found the couch.

Giving into the blind exhaustion, I slipped my boots off and curled up, using my trench coat as a blanket. I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. A sly voice that sounded like oil on broken glass smiled and said I didn't belong there. What in the world made me think I would fit in? My own family couldn't bear my presence, my best friend in the whole universe couldn't help me, so what had me convinced that I actually belonged with the turtles?

It was going to be a long night. Not bothering to disagree with the voice, I buried my head in my hands and tried to sleep. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be to get lost in dream land, and my thoughts were soon full of black wings and wedding dresses.

"Guys, why is there a girl on our couch?" I rubbed at my eyes, finding them crusted over with mascara and eye liner. Someone was talking, that much I understood.

"Dude, don't ask questions, just go with it!" It took me a minute to realize it was me they were talking about. Raising my head, I blinked and the world came into focus. Michelangelo talked to a turtle that I assumed was Leonardo, the eldest of the four. "Oh, hey! It's Taxic!" I nodded, trying to smile.

"Good morning Michelangelo." Donatello chose this moment to join us, and he paused when he saw me sitting in their lair. I gave a hesitant wave.

"You came back." I nodded again, rubbing at my face with a sleeve. "Leo, this is Taxic. She's the girl we found a few nights ago." Shyly, I shook his hand, feeling a little nervous under his studying gaze.

"Babe, you hungry?" Michelangelo called from the kitchen. I shrugged unsure, noticing how little hunger had been affecting me in the last few weeks. Pondering over this, I slid a hand under my many layers to rest on my stomach. Was it a bad thing when you could feel your own ribs?

"What's wrong?" I met Leonardo's masked eyes and almost shrunk away.

"Nothing, I'm okay." My ability to mask any and all disturbances unsettled me deeply. I was going to be the announcer person who told the whole city about an apocalypse without sounding the least bit worried. Something about the way he watched me told me that Leonardo didn't believe my quick response. It was about time someone started to notice my habitual fibbing.

"I see that Ms. Peters has returned to us." I turned, as did the guys, when Master Splinter hobbled his way next to me. "How are you, my child?" Unconsciously, I clenched my hand in the fabric of my sweater. So many things I could've said. I was confused, tired, healing, about to die... And yet, I found myself in a more optimistic mood than I was yesterday!

"I am... better." It was the truth this time. Something inside my soul, something that had once been coated in spider webs and depression sparked alive. His smile was wise, and I felt compelled to return it. There was hope for me after all.

"That is good to hear. Perhaps you would like to join us for a brief breakfast before my sons begin their training." Michelangelo groaned from the kitchen. I bit my lip, unsure of how to explain my lack of an appetite. Just when things were looking up too.

'I have to learn to fit in somehow, eh?' Deciding to suck up my inner protests, I nodded. 'I should've learned to ignore my inner voices a long time ago.' Standing up, I noticed that I was a few inches shorter than the turtles. I followed Splinter to the kitchen, staying off to the side. Who knew if they each had their own places to sit at the table? I didn't want to off set the routine they had so obviously acquired.

"Leonardo," he looked up, "go wake your brother."

"Yes sensei." I felt like an outsider, watching such an oddly normal family. "Taxic, you can sit down you know." I blushed slightly, eyes glued to the floor. Donatello nodded, gesturing to the table, where Splinter had already sat down.

"Yeah, just pick a chair. It doesn't really matter where we sit." Still feeling fidgety, I shuffled to the chair next to Splinter. The elderly rat placed a hand over mine.

"You can be calm, there is no danger here." Taking a deep shuddering breath, I closed my eyes. They didn't deserve this. They shouldn't have to deal with a dysfunctional teen such as myself. Needless to say, I carried a lot of issues on my shoulders. Leonardo returned, a disgruntled Raphael behind him, and I opened my eyes. In the back of my mind, I heard The Blonde Mafia giggling.

"I need help." My voice cracked, like the walls I built up around my memories. Every eye was on me, and my face burned with icy paleness. My pounding breath echoed in my ears. "Can't you hear me...? I'm breaking." I didn't actually intend to start crying. I had hoped that maybe, I could push all my defects into my mental closet, and bury them, but alas, I could not escape the bitterness General High had poisoned me with.

No.

It wasn't my high school that did it. I did it to myself. A hand was placed on my shoulder, and I grabbed at the three fingers. I needed something to cling to, more than ever. The rubber band in my soul was straining, and I could feel the fibers start to give. I met Master Splinter's gaze with uncertainty.

"Please tell me, what upsets you so?" Something in his voice, or the way he seemed to genuinely care, it terrified me. All of them, not just Master Splinter but the turtles as well, looked at me like they wanted to help. I wasn't used to that.

The underside of my wrist froze, and my bloody ran cold, traveling up my arms to my heart and lungs. Thoughts created a tornado in my brain, destroying themselves as if they were stuck in some kind of blender. I could feel my lower lip tremble, as my eyes tripled in size. With all these reactions mutating by the second, I did the only thing I could think of doing.

I ran.

The chair clattered to the floor as I pulled on and zipped up my boots. Leonardo followed me, watching as I struggled with my trench coat, his brothers and master weren't far behind. Michelangelo was the one to break the drowning silence.

"Why are you leavin'?" I smoothed my hair down, attempting (and failing, might I add) to look dignified instead of mentally unstable. I tried to keep my voice even.

"You are too good to be... tainted by knowing a screw up like me." The dam I'd constructed to keep my emotions at bay was crumbling. All the hard word I had done was deteriorating more with every passing second I spent staring and being stared at.

"Who says you're a screw up, Taxic?" My eyes flew to Donatello.

"Everyone." I hadn't meant for them to be able to hear it. Heat rushed over me, followed closely by ice. 'I can't handle this.' "Please," I begged, "don't trouble yourselves with me. I'm not worth it." Raphael crossed his arms, leaning against the wall.

"You should know that Fearless leader here," he cocked his head in Leonardo's direction, "doesn't give up all that easily. None of us do." Michelangelo stepped forward, putting his arm around my shoulders.

"Yeah babe, you're staying." He gestured grandly to the sewer lair. "Welcome to the family." He moved his hand from my shoulder to my head, ruffling and un-smoothing my hair. "I've always wanted a little sister!"

"Ha, Mikey, you're not the baby anymore." I smiled in spite of myself as Raphael and Michelangelo squabbled. I had acquired four older brothers and a father all in one day. As the laughter of my siblings washed over me, I felt my smile grow bigger. Today was a good day.

Master Splinter invited me to watch one of their sessions, and he offered to teach me as well. I declined, shaking my head. I sat next to Splinter, mirroring his cross legged meditation. It was fun watching them fight and train. I was regretting my decision of not accepting his offer.

It would make an awesome writing piece, to try and talk about my new brothers and father without giving away their hidden secrets. Too bad I wasn't going back to school. I vaguely wondered if I was allowed to tell Myca about them and I made a mental note to ask Master Splinter about it later. Unknowingly, I drummed out the beat to Radio, by Alkaline Trio, on my knee and I hummed softly.

I couldn't remember ever feeling this relaxed. Closing my eyes, I enjoyed the sound of weapon beating against weapon. A hand rested softly on my shoulder, and I looked up. Leonardo stood behind his sensei; the other three were nowhere in sight.

"C'mon, the others are watching TV. Mikey says that you need to rescue him from Raph too." I unfolded my legs, and Leonardo extended a tri-fingered hand for me. I accepted, and he pulled me to my feet with ease. "You're real light, when was the last time you had some food?" I shrugged, remembering my pale skin stretched over my ribs. Myca was right, I needed to gain weight or I would blow away.

Michelangelo and Raphael lounged on the couch, the latter glaring venomously at the TV. Donatello was nowhere in sight. Master Splinter eased into his armchair, studying his son and then moving his knowing gaze to the television. I copied him, sitting next to Michelangelo and watched the screen with curiosity. An overly tan couple showed off their virgin-white teeth and I rolled my eyes.

"The news was just on, wasn't it?" Leonardo asked cautiously from behind me. I craned my neck to get a better look at his face. He glanced down, meeting my questioning stare before raising an eyebrow to his brother. "Raph?"

"Yeah," the turtle under interrogation growled. "The stupid punks are still pushing that drug story." He tightened his grip on his sais.

"They're doing a full blown drug search, dude." I rolled my eyes a second time. The feds were always getting involved at the wrong times.

"Glad I'm not going back there, then." That was entirely the wrong thing to say, I later realized. All heads turned in my direction, with a snap that echoed in the surrounding sewer tunnels.

"Taxic," Donatello began gently, "what grade are you in, exactly?"

In a voice that was far too quiet to be natural, I answered. "I'm in 10th grade..." Donatello considered this.

"So, you're 15?" I nodded, dropping my gaze to my clasped hands in my lap. "You're not dropping out of school, not at that young of an age."

"Donatello is right." Master Splinter spoke from his chair, hands folded neatly in front of him. "Knowledge is important. You must further your education." I couldn't look at them; it hurt to know that they thought I was giving up. The glowing screens of Donatello's computers caught my attention.

"You can teach me." It sounded like a good idea. From what I had deduced, Donatello was the brains of the ninja turtles. Leonardo also looked to be a reasonable fellow with a capable mind. Already I could see the discomfort forming on their faces.

"Taxic..." Leonardo trailed off uncertainly. "That's flattering and everything, but..." The eldest looked to his father for help, and the wise rodent regarded me with understanding.

"My daughter, however my sons are intelligent in the ways of the ninja," Michelangelo had the decency to appear modest, "they aren't skilled in the ways of educating a teenager." I nodded, knowing it had been stupid from the get-go.

"Please," I whispered, "don't make me go back there." I hugged myself, digging my nails into my nonexsistant stomach. "Don't make me..." Michelangelo put an arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into his hug. It was a comforting thought, having someone touch you with no ulterior motive besides consolation.

"What's the matter, babe?" I shook my head, hair whipping my face and stinging my eyes. My throat burned, the ever present itch intensifying at the back of my mouth. Even though the words were begging to be let out, I denied myself the freedom of speech. Something as sub-human as myself didn't deserve it.

= =

I feel I must apologize for taking so very, very long. There are many excuses I have in my hat, but none of them are plausible. One is that I just started high school, so it's been a helluva trip. Second is that, my computer had to be reformatted, so I haven't had much access to it. Sorry luvs.

I'd like to thank my reviewers, you're wonderful, I love you... And I hope this chapter was a bit better. I'd like to believe I'm improving, but I doubt it. Hmm, I don't own Mad World, by Gary Jules. It's a beautiful song, and you should all take the time to listen to it.

You guys rock, like a CD.

Thank you.


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